Colors
by jimmystina
Summary: He found himself staring up at the blank white ceiling of his dorm room wondering what went wrong. He remembered the party, the days they spent together that quickly turned to nights, and lastly that night where the sky seemed to have an eerie lilac tint to it and thunder rumbled as she got into a taxi cab and left the park…and him. Loosely based on Halsey's song "Colors".


**colors  
** _inspired loosely by storyteller1212's shawn/angela fic._

 _Everything is_ **blue**.

The whole room was tinted **blue**. The lights reflecting off of her silver sequined dress made it appear to be **blue** as well, but the **bluest** thing in the room…the **bluest** thing he's ever seen in his life…are her eyes. Even through the loud music, flashing lights, and the way her makeup had smudged a little, all he could see was her eyes as she appeared to be moving in slow motion. Her blonde hair coming down in tousled waves around her shoulder as she finally got off the table she'd been dancing on, taking his hand before falling into his arms. Her arms draped around his neck as she leaned in and left a lipstick stain on his cheek that also just happened to be a dark **blue**.

He hadn't wanted to attend the party that night. Parties just weren't his scene. It was too much going on, and six months prior, he would've been in the floor talking his girlfriend through a sensory overload that would've left her frozen. Now, he was alone, that is…except for the girl draped around his neck, whispering things in his ear that would make her innocent best friend's face flush with color that wouldn't be acted on…at least not tonight…the **blue** cup in her hand being the only reason he needed to kiss her shoulder and speak into her ear.

"Not tonight, Maya."

* * *

 _Everything is_ **gray**.

A month or so later, he's lying on his back, skin meeting **gray** jersey sheets. The blonde was positioned over his hips, pulling a white blouse over her head to reveal a **gray** bra that he'd been pretending he hadn't been able to see the entire time they'd been hanging out with friends prior to ending up in his bedroom doing things that could never be considered platonic. She leaned down and kissed his lips, one hand instantly coming up to cup her cheek, the other drifting down to rest against her backside to pull her in closer. Her hips rolled into his, causing him to break the kiss for a moment to let out a moan against her lips. As soon as the sound resonated with her, she pulled back and glanced at him. His eyes immediately found hers.

He'd never seen her in this state before and he couldn't help but let his jaw fall slack. The light way the light was coming in through his large bedroom windows hit her in a way that made her look celestial…like a message from a god he could never put his belief in. Her eyes were clouded with lust, the blue pools turning a cool shade of **gray**.

What seemed to him like a blissful eternity later, he found himself wrapped up in his **gray** sheets with her. She was sound asleep against his chest with her arm draped around his torso, but he was still wide awake. His eyes were taking in every detail of how peaceful she looked, and part of him wondered if she only found true peace when she slept. He gently kissed her forehead, careful not to wake her, before reaching over and taking her hand in his.

He laced their fingers together and then took in the look of her chipped **gray** nail polish and the tiny peach tattoo on her ring finger resting against his hand. For someone who didn't believe in permanence, the small outline he was letting one of his fingers brush up against intrigued him. She was an enigma that no scientific hypothesis could prove. He settled himself against his pillow, pulling the **gray** top sheet over her bare form.

"'Night, Maya…I love you."

* * *

 _You were_ **red** _and you liked me because I was_ **blue**.

It was the night before they began the next big journey into the world. She was wearing a **red** dress and her lips matched as she animatedly discussed the art program at NYU and how she hoped to see her art on display someday in the museum he'd taken her to a week ago. She also asked about his plans of studying science and pursuing his dreams of making leaps for mankind in both space and the field of research.

He took her hand as they walked down the surprisingly calm New York side walk that night and she stepped in closer to him, her head coming to rest against the sleeve of his **blue** button down as she swung their hands between them. Tonight was going to be the night that he finally asked her. Over a decade of waiting and this was finally going to be his moment.

After dinner, they went for a walk. He admired the appearances of their shadows in the **blue** tinted streetlights and the way that she was still holding onto his arm after years upon years of pushing him away. Now, she couldn't seem to get close enough.

They finally got to a spot where there was a bench positioned under another streetlight, looking out over a small pond. Part of him wondered if he should wait until they got back to her place to ask, just in case something went wrong. However, the scientist in him added up the facts and figures. This was foolproof.

They came to a stop and he sat down, motioning for her to sit next to him. He slid over and slipped his arm around her shoulder. She looked at him with those big **blue** eyes that had captivated him for the majority of his life and it was as if the speech he'd been rehearsing since the night before left his mind instantaneously.

He swallowed hard and looked down, taking her free hand in his. Of course her nails were **red** too. He had to chuckle to himself as he admired yet another miniscule detail that all added up to the blonde that he loved more than he'd ever loved anyone else.

Minutes later, he was truly **blue** …in a metaphorical sense that he typically wouldn't use to make descriptions about his observations or testimonies. However, the moment his blood ran cold and his **blue** eyes began to sting, he cursed both biology and psychology.

"Can we do this whole college thing together? Maya, I've loved you for the majority of my life…I want…you…us…I want us."

"I…I c-can't….I…think you should take me home. I have a class at nine. Just…no…I'll call a cab. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

"Maya, please…"

* * *

 _But you touched me and suddenly I was a_ **lilac** _sky_.

Three weeks had passed. He hadn't heard from her at all. His calls frequently went to voicemail and she quickly learned how to turn off her read receipts. He found himself staring up at the blank white ceiling of his dorm room wondering what went wrong. He remembered the party, the days they spent together that quickly turned to nights, and lastly that night where the sky seemed to have an eerie **lilac** tint to it and thunder rumbled as she got into a taxi cab and left the park…and him.

He wondered how she was doing. He wondered if her art teachers had gotten to experience just a taste of the huge gift that she'd been given. He wondered if she'd drawn him again, as she'd done many times before. He wondered if she'd even thought of him, or if the college lifestyle has taken her in a whirlwind only to leave her dancing on another table with holographic blue and **lilac** shades reflecting off of her sequined dress.

Another week passed, and he found himself walking through campus, trying to navigate to his once a week lab course when he found himself stopping in his tracks. He felt his phone leave his hand and hit the pavement, but he didn't pay it any mind. His eyes fixated on the sight in front of him, his eyebrows knitting together with confusion.

The sight of a blonde girl in a shirt stained with **lilac** , gray, red, and blue paint sitting on the lap of a male dressed in an equal amount of black. She leaned in and kissed his cheek, leaving behind a familiar blue stain that made his heart crush beneath the fabric of his **purple** v-neck.

He remembered when the blonde saw the same boy on the train with some other girl nearly four years ago and began to wonder if this is how she felt. He couldn't believe he'd kept his promise, or that she would trust him. How she could pick someone she'd grown so distant from over someone she'd grown so close to astounded him.

He didn't even realize how long he'd been staring at the couple until the two familiar faces stared back at him and the blonde's face fell.

He pursed his lips before picking up his phone off the pavement. Through the cracks on the screen, he pulled up her number and typed away again, knowing it would probably go ignored, but failing to care.

"It was never me, was it, Maya?"

Twelve hours later, in the middle of the night, his phone vibrated on his bedside table. He picked it up and through puffy, tired eyes; he could make out her words…the only words she apparently knew how to say to him anymore.

"I'm so sorry."

 _And you decided_ **purple** _just wasn't for you._


End file.
